


A Portrait of the Artist (After He's Sold Out to The Man)

by Megan



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Developing Relationship, Humor, M/M, New Game Plus Challenge, POV First Person, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-17
Updated: 2010-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-12 18:12:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megan/pseuds/Megan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very annoying day in the life of Phoenix Wright, defense attorney to the (B-list) stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Portrait of the Artist (After He's Sold Out to The Man)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jibrailis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jibrailis/gifts).



May 6, 2019 [8:31 AM]  
Wright & Co. Law Offices

Have you ever had one of those days? You know, the kind where you're just minding your own business, doing your job, and obeying traffic regulations (unlike that guy who almost ran me down on my way to work this morning, by the way) until everything starts to go wrong? You're just drinking your coffee, and the next thing you know your best friend's been picked up for murdering an escort with a clock, a corrupt prosecutor's coming after you with a taser for ruining his little racket (or even worse, a perfectly on the up-and-up prosecutor is coming after you with a bullwhip for going on a date with her brother), and oh yeah, you're being harassed by a seven-foot cyborg who is fueled by Americano and hatred.

If you couldn't tell, I have days like that a _lot_.

Anyway, I knew today was going to be one of _those_ when-- after almost getting run down on my bike, of course-- I got to my office and the coffee maker was broken. I gave up coffee for awhile (getting it thrown in your face on every objection will do that to you), but in the end there just wasn't a substitute for the stuff when it came to staying up all night going over briefings. I hadn't been back on caffeine for a _week_ when this had to go and happen; it was like the coffee maker was trying to punish me for being unfaithful.

"Nick!" Maya didn't sound like she was wanting for any early-morning sunshine, that was for sure. "So, what's up for today?"

"As much as I hate to say it," I said, and the part of me that had frequented artsy, unknown little coffee joints in college was shriveling up and dying, "I need to you to run down the street to Starbucks. The coffee maker is broken."

"Seriously? I figured maybe you were going cold turkey again," Maya said.

"Seriously," I said. "It won't even turn on."

"Okay, then," Maya said. "Have you got a client for us to work on when I get back?"

"Nope," I said. Which was actually pretty depressing-- there had been a couple of months after the Kurain Village case where my phone had been ringing nonstop with people wanting the famous Phoenix Wright to represent them for everything from petty larceny to capital murder. I had even gotten a better suit for court, at Maya's and Pearl's insistence, because the paparazzi loved to comment on the fact that the genius trial lawyer couldn't afford better than off-the-rack polyester. But things had quieted down a lot, once word got out that the secret to my long string of not-guilty verdicts was, of all things, _not representing guilty clients_.

Turns out the people rich enough to hire a good lawyer were the ones who need a lawyer because they _actually did it_. Just my luck, huh?

"Ahem," Maya said, her hand held out. I sighed and took a twenty out of my wallet, of which I probably wouldn't get very much back. Half the reason I made my coffee myself was that it was so much _cheaper_. "I'll be back in a little while, there's usually a line at that Starbucks."

And with that she was off, which left me to... well, not much, to be honest. We didn't have a case, and there were no voice mails waiting for me. The only e-mail in my inbox was from _Franziska von Karma_ , of all people, who apparently was secretly fond of sending people pictures of her dog. Whatever I had done to get onto her carbon-copy list-- because it probably wasn't putting her father in jail, trouncing her in court, or even starting to maybe sort of date her brother given the aforementioned coming after me with a whip-- I deeply, deeply regretted it. Once that e-mail was deleted (because on a list of things I did not care about, 'Franziska von Karma's dog' rated somewhere above 'new burger joints Maya wanted to try' and 'cookie baskets from Viola Cadaverini,' and just below 'Larry Butz's new job and/or girlfriend'), I was actually playing solitaire on my computer for lack of anything better to do.

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya said suddenly, sounding completely delighted. Now, there were two things immediately wrong with that scenario: first of all, Maya had been gone for less than fifteen minutes, which was completely impossible when she was headed into the only Starbucks in a five-block radius at eight-thirty AM on a Monday in Los Angeles, and second of all, that she was talking to Miles Edgeworth. Edgeworth _never_ came by my office. "What are you doing here?"

I closed my Solitaire game immediately, because it wouldn't do to look like a sorry excuse for a bored lawyer instead of the successful, mildly famous (on the local news, at least) defense attorney to the B-list stars that I was. Besides, I was losing.

"Wright," Edgeworth said. I was really, really hoping I didn't have a goofy look on my face; that would be ridiculous. It wasn't like we hadn't known each other for ages, or been _friends_ , or stood on opposing sides of the courtroom a hundred times. And we'd only gone out three times so far, for heaven's sake. There was no good reason at all that Edgeworth showing up at my office unannounced should make me so happy. "I was hoping I would catch you here before you went to the Detention Center."

"Ahahaha." Maya was laughing a little too stiffly and a lot too loudly, but she was _also_ carrying a cardboard cup holder with what appeared to be actual Starbucks in it. She _had_ gotten there and back in fifteen minutes, somehow. Which I did not want to know the how of, because it would probably wind up involving criminal charges; that was Maya Fey for you.

"I've got some free time this morning," I said. That was honest, but did not necessarily imply that I had nothing to do, right? "What brings you all the way out here?"

"I need your help," he said, and it didn't even sound _forced_. The day was getting stranger and stranger. "A number of cases are under review, thanks to Mr. Armando's arrest and trial. Defendants are appealing their verdicts."

"Godot wasn't a prosecutor for very long, though," I said. He couldn't have tried more than three or four cases worth appealing in the months he had been a prosecutor-- surely this wasn't some kind of gargantuan task. That actually made me even happier, in that way I _really hoped_ wasn't showing on my face; not only was Edgeworth in my office unannounced, but he'd put together a spurious excuse to get out of the office and see me.

"Some of the defendants are those whose cases Mr. Armando lost as a _defense attorney_ ," Edgeworth said, and well, there went _that_ moment of glee. Godot hadn't been a prosecutor very long, but Diego Armando had been a defense attorney for years and tried _scores_ of cases worth appealing. No wonder Edgeworth needed my help. "I was hoping that we might be able to discuss a few of the more prominent cases over lunch. You have a certain... method of analysis that often breaks open difficult cases, and your record will help quell any questions of prosecutorial impropriety."

He really _did_ need my help, and I wasn't sure if that was better or worse. On one hand, it wasn't some flimsy pretext for the two of us to spend time together, but on the other... well, he _needed my help_. In a situation that didn't involve him being arrested for murder and needing a defense attorney, at that!

"Nice of you to admit that I can win cases with something other than theatrics," I said. I couldn't help it-- after so many articles dismissing me as the lawyer who won cases with metal detectors and cross-examined house pets, it was nice to hear someone admit I actually put in the work I did.

"Indeed, Wright," Edgeworth said, and he sounded amused, not offended.

"Since you're being so very generous in your opinion of me today, I think I can fit you into my schedule," I said.

"Aha! I knew you came down here to ask Nick out on a date," Maya said, looking smug. "Otherwise you would have just called him, or e-mailed him the files. Lucky for you two I'm going to line up for _Steel Samurai: The Movie_ tickets this afternoon, so I won't be in the way."

"You wouldn't be in the way," I said hastily, at the exact same moment Edgeworth said "I thought those didn't go on sale until next week!" with more righteous indignation than I'd heard out of him in some _court cases_. And if there was one thing that I did not need just then, it was Edgeworth in my office going into a _nerd rage_.

"I'll get you one," Maya said. "I mean, it's not like _Nick_ will go with me, and all Pearl does is complain that she likes the Pink Princess better."

"Look, as much as I enjoy a good discussion of the Steel Samurai chronology and its high and low points, I don't have any cases this morning," I broke in hastily, because the only thing worse than Edgeworth in a nerd rage would be _Maya_ in a nerd rage. "I could get started on those cases with you this morning, and then we could have lunch _without_ them."

"I have to be in court this morning," Edgeworth said. "But you're welcome to use my office, if you want to get started."

"I'll come, too," Maya said. "The box office is closer to the courthouse, and Nick could use my help before I go." Then she seemed to remember that she was holding onto the coffee, and held it out to me. "Your coffee's gonna get cold if you don't drink it. Can you believe there was no line? I mean, there's a book signing there and everything."

"Oh? Who's there?" Edgeworth asked.

"In this neighborhood, probably Laurice Deauxnim," I mumbled, mostly to myself. I tried to be supportive of Larry, I really did, and he was admittedly a good artist when he wanted to be. He was just also a cautionary tale of what happened when you went to art school and then _didn't_ change majors, sell out to the man, or both.

"...yeah, it was Larry," Maya admitted. "I think they were going to throw him out unless he stopped selling copies of _Franzy's Whiplash Splash_ on his table, though. They said it was pornographic."

I choked on my coffee, and Edgeworth went sort of pale and then very, very red. I guess I couldn't really blame him, especially after Larry had said something to the effect of 'dude, she's not even really your sister' the _last_ time the topic of _Franzy's Whiplash Splash_ had been raised. Apparently sputtering about 'obscenity charges' and 'would never pass Miller' and 'libel' weren't enough to get through to Larry, which was... okay, not surprising.

"Miss Fey," he said, "are you telling me that _Larry Butz_ is still shilling that piece of _pornography_ based on Franziska?"

" _We are going to the courthouse now_ ," I said loudly, and took Maya by the arm on one side and Edgeworth by the arm on the other. "And no one is killing Larry, or skipping court to get Steel Samurai tickets, or doing anything else very, very legally inadvisable! We are all lawyers, or at least extensively trained amateur paralegals, here!"

 

May 6th, 2019 [1:39 PM]  
Los Angeles County Courthouse  
Miles Edgeworth's Office

 

"Have you ever had a day, Wright, when you wish you had never gotten out of bed?" was the first thing Edgeworth said when he closed the office door behind him. Maya had long since left for her tickets, and most of Godot's cases from his defense attorney days were just fine. Diego Armando had been a little bit too fond of theatrical desk-slamming and pulling out implausible defenses that worked, but that was it. And it wasn't like I had any room to talk, what with the fact that I had made my media debut by cross-examining a macaw as a capital murder witness and once come perilously close to hitting opposing counsel in the face with a metal detector.

"More often than not," I said, though it was mostly a joke. I didn't actually hate my job; I would have quit it a long time ago if I had. I mean, my willingness to sell out to the man (as Larry was so fond of putting it when he was smoking substances that I was technically obligated to report him for as an officer of the court, though I hadn't because Larry couldn't afford the fine) meant that I could probably get another job. No, I didn't want to quit-- most of the time. "You've _seen_ the cases I try, Edgeworth. Speaking of, there isn't anything wrong with these. I don't see how they'd manage to overturn them, no matter _what_ kind of criminal rampage Godot snapped and went on." Not that it had been like that, of course, but that was how the media was portraying it. It was the juiciest story they'd had in months, what with the lack of B-list celebrities and reality TV socialites getting into trouble in very public ways.

Only one case had actually panned out as something worth looking into; one of them, a case that had wound up with a manslaughter conviction, actually looked like it might be worth a shot. And that hadn't even been _Godot's_ fault; the whole situation smelled like prosecutorial misconduct. Winston Payne had been state's counsel on that one, and I had never been quite sure how Payne had managed to keep from being disbarred. It seemed like he tried a new evidence fabrication or witness tampering stunt every year, and he was no Manfred von Karma when it came to not getting caught doing it. I was going to ask Edgeworth for the file and start researching it-- maybe Maya and I would make a trip to the detention center later in the week to talk to the defendant.

Edgeworth didn't even have solitaire on his computer, which meant that I'd had to hunt up a different sort of distraction. In the end, I'd resorted to paging through the citizenship test study guide sitting on his desk. You'd actually be surprised at the little things you can forget from high school civics, especially those that don't directly pertain to criminal court.

"I didn't think so, either," Edgeworth said. "...what are you _doing?_ Last I checked, you were already American."

"So are you, and it's in _your_ office," I pointed out.

"It's Franziska's," he said. "She is, and I quote, not willing to stay in this country without being able to influence the circus of foolishness we Americans call a political system."

"And she can't vote with a green card," I said. " That makes sense, I guess. I mean, apart from the fact that I'd have figured she would run screaming back to Germany by now."

"She likes it here, actually," Edgeworth said, and sat down in the chair in front of the desk. I _was_ kind of taking his chair, I guessed. Not that I was going to give it back, though; it was _way_ more comfortable than the chair in my office was. "Not that she would ever admit it."

"I am here to keep track of _you_ ," a woman said coolly in a German accent, and I jumped practically a foot out of Edgeworth's chair. Between her and Maya, it was like every woman I knew had the ability to appear from thin air like a _ninja_. At least Maya kind of had an excuse, what with the whole spiritual superhuman powers and all, but there was absolutely no reason for Franziska to be able to do that. Besides to prove that there was no God, anyway. "You are always getting into _trouble_ when you're left alone."

"Hello, Franziska," Edgeworth said. "Did you need something?"

"The case for the State of California versus Michael Kaczmarek," Franziska said. "Mr. Kaczmarek has decided to make a foolish appeal based on the fact that his obviously imbalanced attorney made errors in his defense, and I have been chosen to present our case to a state commission next week."

"Wait, I was reading that one earlier," I said, and shuffled through the pile until I found it. "Yeah, I remember-- he lit his house up with his wife inside. They had all the evidence, so unless he's arguing prosecutorial misconduct there isn't a chance. Oh, speaking of misconduct-- there's a case I want to take a closer look at. Here it is, State of California versus Anita Dominguez. This looks like one of Winston Payne's more obvious witness setups-- I don't know how Godot didn't shred him in the first place."

"By all means," Edgeworth said. "We can even arrange for you to present the case to the commission, if you do find it worth reopening."

"Winston Payne is a fool who should have been disbarred decades ago," Franziska said, and for once I was in complete and total agreement with her. "He is a disgrace to the prosecutorial office. Thank you for the paperwork, Miles. I will let you know when I finish putting together my case."

And with that she was gone, those same ninja powers no just and loving deity would allow someone like her to have springing into action again.

"You didn't tell her about _Laurice's_ reprinting of his book," I said. Sometimes I'm a real idiot, you know that? I bring up things like that when I really should let them die.

"If I did that, she would march down there and start _whipping_ him," Edgeworth said, with a bit of a shudder. "And that would just encourage him."

"True," I conceded. "If there's one thing Larry doesn't have, it's a survival instinct. He'd probably write a sequel about it."

"Larry Butz is a foolish fool who will wish he was never born," Franziska said, head and shoulder leaning into view from outside the door that had been _closed_ until just then.

"So is she omnipresent, or does she just have your office bugged?" I asked when the click of her heels on the marble floor of the courthouse made it clear she had actually left.

"She's a von Karma. Both possibilities are equally likely," Edgeworth said with a sigh. I was suddenly very, very glad that I had never breathed a word to Edgeworth about the fact I hated getting pictures of Assistant District Attorney von Karma's dog now, because there was no way she wouldn't find out and kill me. "Shall we go now, before someone else decides the desperately need my help with something?"

"Mr. Edgeworth," an unfortunately all-too-familiar voice said from the door Franziska had left open, and Winston Payne entered the office without so much as waiting for a response. "I need to go over some documents with you."

"Not before I go over my case with him, buddy!" And oh dear lord, if there was one person who needed the ability to teleport places (or however it was they got around without alerting anyone) less than Franziska it was _Detective Gumshoe_.

Edgeworth put a hand to his temple, and the look he gave me was pure frustration. All I could do was shrug, and try to look sympathetic.

 

May 6, 2019 [6:18 PM]  
Osteria Mozza

 

"I vote we retire today," I said while we waited for our food to arrive. "It's done. It needs to be put out to pasture to _die_ , it is so done."

It had been _hours_ before both Payne and Gumshoe had finished. I had wound up reading the State vs. Dominguez case and taking notes on it, instead of brushing up on my civics from Franziska's book. I had found a couple of hooks that looked more and more like Payne had tampered with things and screwed up, and back then people hadn't been looking for it. They hadn't really suspected prosecutors were doing anything wrong until I had proved it with Manfred von Karma, and it hadn't seemed _endemic_ until doubt had been cast on Godot as well. I could probably get the case reopened, if what I was seeing was true and Ms. Dominguez was amenable. But despite-- or because of-- the afternoon actually being productive, food being postponed for almost four hours had left me absolutely starving and in a worse mood than ever.

"I am in complete agreement with you," Edgeworth said. "It has been entirely disagreeable, present company excepted."

"Hey, _you_ get a ticket to _Steel Samurai: the Movie_ ," I said, and waved my drink at him like I was objecting in a courtroom. He rolled his eyes, because of course making wild gestures in a nice restaurant was something that just wasn't done in Miles Edgeworth's world. "And you and my assistant are going on a date to see it. I don't know which one of you I'm supposed to be jealous of, do you?"

"You are ridiculous, Wright," he said and finally gave in to a weary laugh. "And you got a case that will put your name back in the news and possibly get everyone's least favorite human being out of our hair."

"Franziska is going to kill me when she finds out I delete all the pictures she sends me of her dog," I said.

"Larry is going to force me to do something that will get me arrested when I next see him," he said.

"Maya ran off with my change from coffee this morning. She's probably going to use it for those Steel Samurai tickets you two are taking for your date. See, I'm even funding your little affair!"

"I have to get my car waxed because one of the wild children running around your street got fingerprints on it."

"...you are a _terrible_ human being sometimes, you know that?"

"You are a _ridiculous_ human being _all_ of the time, Wright."

"You know," I said finally, "I think we could do this all day. Like I said, I officially motion that today is _tabled_. I am going to get up tomorrow, go to Best Buy and get a new coffee maker, and then set up a meeting with Anita Dominguez about filing to reopen her case. Today has officially never happened, up to the point we walked into this restaurant."

"Fair enough," he said, and leaned in a little. "What are we doing tonight then, if that's remaining on the record?"

"You could start by calling me Nick," I said. It had been bugging me for a little while, honestly-- it was one thing when we were being vaguely professional even as friends, but it was kind of past that point now. "This is what, our fourth date? I think we can get back onto a first name basis, _Miles_."

"I might be able to manage that," Edge-- _Miles_ said. He didn't actually look as uncomfortable as I expected him to, with that kind of request. He didn't do informal easily, and he proved it with the next words out of his mouth. "Though I might have to start with Phoenix."

"Fine by me," I said.

Since the day had officially no longer happened and tonight was shaping up to be pretty good, it didn't come anywhere close to making my list of really ridiculously bad days anymore. Broken coffee maker, jackass who didn't watch for cyclists, dog pictures, Larry's newest brush with almost certain arrest, Winston Payne, and all.


End file.
